Page 46 of A Treacherous Trade
Going to the bed, I snatched the purse he’d left and took a moment to reach inside, making certain to advertise the heft of it to the surrounding women. I didn’t know exactly how much a week’s wages were for prostitution these days, but this would more than cover it.
“Well, tell whoever’s turn it was with him that I’ll do the favor of giving them a night off any time.” I drew the strings taut with an exaggerated motion. “The experience was well worth the compensation.”
Morag’s eyes became owlish over a nose that could kindly be called pert and cruelly compared to that of a certain barn animal with a tendency to find truffles. It was the one true hinderance to her beauty.
Like my bit of an overbite, I supposed.
“Ye’re not saying he made ye come,” she said in disbelief.
“Discretion is part of what I’m paid for,” I hedged, hoping to keep the innate discomfort out of my voice. “But I will say… his taste was notunpleasant.”
That part, at least, was the truth.
From the way they erupted with delight, I felt safe in the assumption that I’d truly taken a step toward being accepted among their ranks.
I hoped Amelia could forgive me for what was done to her lovely costume. Perhaps if I provided information along with the bad news, she’d not be too offended.
“Is he usually so generous?” I queried to the room at large. It seemed a miracle that any of these women would forgo such a payment in order to teach me a lesson. Especially if one went by how they all but salivated at the sight of the purse I still clutched in my hands.
“That’s not generosity.” Belle tilted her head toward the coin in question. “Alys’s rates were astronomical, and she charged the likes of him double.”
At that, I felt the blood drain from my face, taking any warmth regarding Night Horse with it. “He was a regular of Alys’s?” I asked.
“Aye,” Morag answered. “Occasionally Jane or Indira would have him if Alys wasn’t working. Or sometimes all of them at once. I think the brute liked that Alys and Indira hated each other.”
Izzy gasped, her hand going over her mouth. “And now… two of the three are… Dear, sweet God, you don’t thinkhehad something to do with it?”
I swallowed. Hard. I didn’t knowwhatto think. Night Horse was a killer by trade, but in the two years I’d known him, I’d never seen a woman among his victims.
Though it would be folly to imagine that I’d been privy to all his casualties, recent or otherwise. I thought of his features when I told him that two of the women at The Orchard had been killed.
He’d not asked their names.
He’d barely even flinched.
And then, with parting words, he’d pointed his deft finger at thewomensurrounding the victims, casting suspicion upon them for Jane’s poisoning, at least.
Continue searching for the truth, Fiona. The search will keep you together until you are stronger.
Had he encouraged me to search for the truth, assuming I wouldn’t find it?
Suddenly the pleasant taste in my mouth turned to ash, and I couldn’t swallow around the arid grit.
I shoved my reaction to this bit of information into a box and locked it away without taking the time to sort it out. I still needed to siphon as much as I could while I had these women enthralled.
“This Alys… she seemed to make enemies easily. What about friends? Did she have the same contention with Jane?”
“What’s it to you?” Belle asked, deepening the already scandalizing cleft between her breasts as she folded her arms.
“It behooves me not to follow in her footsteps,” I answered sharply, taking a page from their book. “If I avoid her mistakes, I am more likely to avoid her fate.”
These women valued survival over social refinements, and under the circumstances, I could well understand.
“If I’m honest, none of us were close with Alys. She was… difficult to get to know.” Izzy toyed with one of her honey curls, and I noticed for the first time she’d changed out of her frilly pink dress in favor of a shimmering cerulean gown, molded to her lush body. “But Jane was well liked by everyone,” she added hastily. “Not an enemy in theworld, our Jane.”
“Except for Sophia.” Belle smirked.
“Sophia?” I raked my memory of the introductions made below stairs.
